


Runaways, Pancakes, and Breakdowns

by handwrittenhello



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (not shown), Child Abuse, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Runaway Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handwrittenhello/pseuds/handwrittenhello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange. </p><p>Prompt: 'alright! au where cas is a teen who runs away in the middle of the night with a small suitcase from his abusive home-and when dean, the kid smoking a cigarette and walking down a main road at 3am asks him where he's going, cas breaks down.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runaways, Pancakes, and Breakdowns

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did the prompt justice! Happy Holidays!

Castiel’s long trench coat whipped around his legs as the bitter wind picked up, chilling him to the bone. He shivered. Tonight, Christmas Eve, was not a night he would normally be outside in the cold, but then, nothing was normal anymore, was it? Not since his father had accidentally driven the car off the road, taking his wife and Castiel’s two brothers with him.

In almost no time at all, he’d been entered into the system, and handed off to a pair of foster parents, Naomi and Uriel. Both strictly religious, they ran the household with an iron fist and no small amount of punishment if one of them screwed up. Or even if they didn’t screw up, sometimes.

Poor Samandriel would never be the same.

Castiel rubbed his left wrist, feeling a phantom twinge of pain. It was a reminder of why he’d left, why he was walking down the street at three in the morning with only a small suitcase to call his own. He wasn’t sure yet where he would go; he didn’t have very many friends, being naturally introverted, and he’d never met most of his extended family. Right now, his plan was to get to the train station and ride all the way out of the state, using the money he’d nicked from Naomi’s not-so-secret stash.

He turned a corner onto the main road, stopping short when he noticed someone else leaning against a street lamp, smoking a cigarette. He turned around, intending to get there another way—who knew what kind of unsavory things the guy was up to?—but it was too late; a shout rang through the street, breaking the eerie silence of the early morning hours.

“Hey, where are you going?” Castiel could see now that he was much younger than he looked; he couldn’t be more than Castiel’s own age. _Maybe he’s running away too,_ he thought randomly, and then _no, of course he isn’t, he doesn’t look as fucked up as I feel,_ and then it was too much. He dropped the suitcase and didn’t so much as sit down as collapse in the middle of the street.

“Whoa, hey, you okay?” The teen flicked the cigarette down, stamping it out and running towards him. He slowed once he got near, wary, as if Castiel might lash out. Which was hilarious, really, because he didn’t think he was capable of much at the moment besides trying to stop the tears that were bubbling up. He laughed wetly, but it quickly turned into a sob.

“I’ll be fine,” he choked out, scrubbing at his face. Of all the times to break down!

“Okay, just try to breathe,” the stranger coached. Castiel realized that he was on the verge of hyperventilating and tried to regulate his breathing, matching the exaggerated breaths of the stranger. “I’m Dean,” he said once Castiel had calmed down a bit.

“Castiel. Thank you.” He took a deep breath and wiped at the few remaining tear tracks on his face. “Sorry, I just—I'm having kind of a hard time right now.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. Let it all out. What’s with the suitcase?” he asked, nodding at said object lying dejectedly on the pavement.

“It’s—I’m leaving. I have to get out of this town.” He looked at Dean, daring him to say anything, but received only an ‘okay’. Gratitude rushed through him; he didn’t think he could handle arguing or explaining everything right now.

“Are you sure you're up to traveling right now? I mean, I don’t doubt you could, but I don’t know if you should. There are some nasty people out at this time of night.”

“And what are you, then?” Castiel teased.

“A friend, if you want?” Dean grinned. “You can stay at my place overnight if you’d like; something tells me you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

Castiel hesitated. “No offense, but I'm not sure if that’s the smartest idea. I appreciate it, but you could be anybody. I don’t even know why you're out here this late.”

Dean grimaced. “My brother and my dad started fighting. I couldn’t take the shouting, so I figured I might as well get some fresh air. Actually, it sounds like they’ve stopped.” He looked behind him at the apartment building. Castiel figured it must be bad if they could regularly be heard from the street.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your bed,” Castiel said, grabbing the handle of the suitcase and standing up.

“Please, come inside? You don’t even have to stay long, just let me make you a cup of coffee or something.” That _did_ sound nice, now that he’d said it. Castiel hadn’t been able to get more than an hour’s sleep when he’d gone to bed earlier, too keyed up and anxious. Now he was paying the price, feeling exhaustion threatening to drag his eyelids closed.

Dean seemed to take his hesitation as encouragement, unlocking the door and beckoning Castiel inside. “I promise I'm not a serial killer,” he joked, walking inside and leaving the door open. Castiel followed him in, lingering in the entryway with all the awkwardness that comes with being a guest in an unfamiliar place.

Dean poked his head out from what Castiel assumed must be the kitchen. “In here.”

Castiel joined him. “Won’t your dad be mad?” he asked in a semi-whisper.

“No, he sleeps like the dead when he’s drunk. And whenever he and Sam fight, it’s because he’s drunk. Ergo,” Dean said, handing Castiel a mug, “he won’t ever have to know you're here.” Castiel took a sip of the warm liquid, swallowing in surprise when he tasted it.

“Hot chocolate?” It was as far from the bitter bite of coffee as it could get.

“I figured coffee probably wouldn’t help with getting any sleep tonight.”

“True.” Castiel sat down in a kitchen chair and sipped some more of the rich drink, savoring the warmth and taste. All too soon, it was gone, and he placed his mug on the counter regretfully.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem. Are you sure you don’t want to crash here? I’ll sleep on the couch,” Dean offered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Castiel said.

“It’s no trouble, really. In fact, it would probably be a lot better on my nerves if I knew you weren’t wandering alone out there.”

Castiel sighed. “Only if you're sure.” He wasn’t willing to turn down such an offer, especially with no strings attached. It was far better than what he’d been expecting; he’d thought he might catch a bit of sleep on the bus, maybe spend a night in some crappy little motel.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now come on, I’ll make up the bed for you.” They went upstairs and Dean got Castiel a throw blanket and pillow, directing him to the bathroom. “You can wash up and everything in there if you want.”

It was nearly four A.M. by the time Castiel settled in, and Dean went downstairs, saying, “Come get me if you need anything.”

He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. His thoughts wouldn’t quiet, and he couldn’t stop going over the events of the night. While he was mulling things over, he must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again, it was light out and someone was pounding on the bedroom door.

“Dean, get up! It’s Christmas morning, get up!” a young boy shouted. Castiel sat bolt upright. It must have been Sam, Dean’s brother. Luckily, before he could open the door, Dean shouted up the stairs.

“I’m down here, Sammy!” He heard footsteps thundering down the stairs, accompanied by whoops of delight shortly after.

“Here, start opening presents, I have to do something really quickly,” he heard Dean say. More footsteps, going up this time, and then the door was opening.

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean said easily. “Want pancakes? I made them for Sam, but if you hurry, you might get some before he eats them all. I swear, with the amount he eats, he’s gonna grow up to be a regular Sasquatch.”

“Is that smart? What about Sam?”

“Nah, he’s cool. He’ll probably think you're one of my friends from school or something.”

“What about your dad?”

“Still snoring like a chainsaw.”

They went downstairs, where Castiel was immediately ambushed by Sam, asked questions about everything from what his favorite holiday was to why Christmas was celebrated when Jesus’ actual birthday was in the fall.

“I’ve always been a fan of Halloween, and I don’t know,” he replied.

“Here we go, two order of pancakes,” Dean interjected, sliding plates in front of them.

“Thanks, Dean!” Sam dug in with great gusto. Castiel took a bite, found them to be delicious, and soon enough, his plate was empty.

The three of them made talk late into the morning, Dean providing them with almost-endless pancakes and the brothers opening the few presents underneath the scraggly tree.

“Well, this has been wonderful, Dean, but I really have to go,” Castiel finally said, when all was said and done.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for staying,” Dean said, hesitating briefly before pulling Castiel into a hug. “Stay safe, alright?”

“Of course. Bye, Sam. It was nice meeting you.”

A head popped up from behind the Christmas tree. “Aw, can’t you stay a little bit longer?” Sam asked.

“No, I'm afraid I have to leave now. Goodbye, and thank you.” The two stood in the doorway of the building as he headed towards the bus stop. Right before he went around the corner, he turned around, waving. They waved back, before going back inside and shutting the door behind them.

He got on the bus with a feeling of hope for the first time in a long time.

 

**Six Months Later**

_Knock, knock, knock._ The door opened to reveal a very familiar freckled face. “Cas?” Dean gasped. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Surprise! I got a job in the next town over, and thought I would drop by for a visit. I have my own apartment and everything, now,” Castiel said proudly.

“Wow, man, that’s great! I’m so happy for you,” Dean told him sincerely.

“I’d like to invite you and Sam over for dinner, to repay you for that night.”

“I’m sure Sam will be thrilled. He wouldn’t shut up about you for a month after you left. Hey, Sammy!” Dean yelled. “Look who’s here!”

Sam came thundering down the steps, face lighting up when he saw who it was. “Castiel! You came back!”

“Of course. I could never forget you two.”

“Come inside, man, it’s been so long.” Castiel followed Dean inside, smiling as he settled in with his two favorite people in the world.

 


End file.
